


Taking

by ifitwasribald



Series: Steve Rogers Never Was a Boy Scout [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Cock Rings, Dirty Talk, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Steve's getting the hang of topping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:18:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifitwasribald/pseuds/ifitwasribald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless smut with nothing remotely resembling a plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking

Tony’s prototype for a more efficient repulsor proved somewhat less brilliantly conceived than he’d first expected. He poked and prodded at the design specs, but the memory of a rough voice and rougher hands kept derailing his train of thought. How he was ever going to get any work done with the temptation of Steve Rogers within a fifty mile radius he had no idea.

He opened his mouth to tell JARVIS to dial Steve’s number, but closed it again, determined to solve this one problem before giving in. He swiped the holographic blueprint, shifting one of the circuits and swapping in a larger power conduit, and then spun the thing to look at it from all sides. No. That was no help at all.

“Call for you from Captain Rogers, Sir,” JARVIS announced.

Tony felt blood rush south just at that. Screw it—there was no reason he had to get a damn thing done today. “Put him through.”

“Hey,” Steve’s voice emanated from the nearest speaker.

“Hey yourself. To what do I owe the pleasure?” As if he didn’t know. Or, at least, have some very specific hopes.

“I, uh, I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

“How I’m doing in the sense of am I still sore from the way you fucked me day before yesterday? Or in the sense of can you come up and fuck me again today?”

“Jesus, Tony.” Steve’s tone was suddenly thick with desire in a way that went straight to Tony’s cock. “Both?”

“Yes. And God yes. Actually I’ve got something to show you.”

“When should I—“

“Now? Does now work for you?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.

“Get up here, then.”

Tony stood and stretched, glancing down at his grease-stained undershirt and beat-up jeans. Steve might not approve. Then again, if Steve didn’t approve of what he was wearing, Tony was pretty sure they’d come up with an effective solution for the problem.

Tony had barely made it to his front hall when the elevator door opened and Steve stepped out, his white t-shirt tight over his incredible arms and a distinct bulge in his usual khakis.

Steve’s eyes as they raked up and down over Tony’s body held such a proprietary gleam that for an instant Tony was tempted to drop to his knees. He’d never been particularly interested in the voluntary obedience side of BDSM, but for that look he could make an exception.

He swallowed hard. Today he had other plans. “C’mon,” he said, and ducked through the door to his private rooms. Steve followed him into his bedroom, and looked around curiously.

“I’ve never seen your bedroom before,” he noted, sounding surprised to realize it.

Tony shrugged. “It’s a bedroom. The interesting part is over here.” He pressed a thumb into a panel in the wall, and an unobtrusive door slid open to reveal a small walk in closet.

Tony gestured for Steve to precede him.

“This is what you wanted to— oh.” Steve’s eyes lit on the double row of displays: plugs, whips, restraints, and other toys, each nestled in its own designated holder above the drawers that lined both sides of the closet.

“Right. ‘Oh.’ I thought you might enjoy my collection.”

“Hell, Tony.” Steve still hovered near the door, and his eyes landed on the first display. He reached out a hand towards a set of handcuffs, but pulled it back. “Can I touch—?”

“Be my guest. In fact—“ Tony pressed his thumb to the panel again. “Transfer exclusive voice control to Rogers, Steven. Safeword: cantaloupe.”

Steve looked back at him, his expression a touch confused, but with a glint in his eyes that suggested that he had some idea of what Tony had done. “What was that?”

“A number of my toys are voice operated. By you, now. Just you.”

“Unless you use your safeword?”

“You’re catching on.”

He picked up the handcuffs and examined them. They were smooth, without any visible locking mechanism. “Open?” he tried, and the handcuffs swung open with a little click. Steve sucked in a breath.

“Tell me if there’s anything you’d like to know about any of this,” Tony urged.

Steve slipped the handcuffs into his pocket. “Do you— What do you like?”

“This is my collection. There isn’t anything here I don’t enjoy at least sometimes. My favorites are on display. The rest are in the drawers.”

Steve took a step into the closet and looked around again, without immediately picking up anything else. “This is— Wow. I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.”

Tony stepped in after him, the better to see what he was looking at. “I’ll tell you. Or we can start slow. We don’t have to use toys at all if you don’t want.”

Steve turned back to him and reached down to run a finger over the bulge in Tony’s jeans. Tony shivered. “It turns you on, showing this stuff to me, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You like to imagine me using them on you?” Steve’s eyes stayed focused on Tony’s face while his hand moved firmly over Tony’s cock, and it was everything Tony could do to answer.

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“Anything you want.”

“And if I want you naked, right now?”

Tony was tempted to tell Steve to make him do it, or to rip his clothes off for him. But Steve’s look curled deep into his belly, rich and hot, and he stripped down without protest.

Steve reached down to grab Tony’s cock, and Tony arched against him, throwing his head back in pleasure at the rough strokes. All too soon Steve snatched his hand back and turned to face the first set of toys. Tony let a little whine pass his lips.

“You’re not going to…?”

“Keep going?” Steve’s mouth quirked. “I think we ought to save that for later.”

“I was going to say ‘strip.”

“No,” Steve answered firmly, and suddenly Tony felt as vulnerable as he did when Steve had him pinned against a wall.

He hadn’t expected Steve to get inventive so soon. He definitely, definitely liked it.

“I’ve been doing some reading,” Steve mused as he pulled a switch down off its holder and ran his fingers over the leather end.

Tony’s eyes fixed on the motion, and he found himself unable to look away. “…and?” he finally managed.

“This was something I wanted to try. Having you here naked when I’m… not.”

Tony swallowed hard. “How’s it working out for you?”

Steve turned to look him up and down again with that same possessive need in his eyes, and Tony’s knees nearly buckled. “Pretty well so far,” he answered, his voice low and rough in a way that suggested considerable understatement.

Steve looked down at the switch again and moved to run its end over Tony’s body, gently trailing over the arc reactor and down over his stomach to glide along the side of his cock and then tease at his balls.

The touch was slight, just firm enough not to tickle, and whatever part of Tony’s brain remained able to process recognized that it was the threat more than the touch that made him buck and whimper. His balls were tight against his body already, and he realized that at this rate he was very likely to embarrass himself. “Can I,” he managed, “make a suggestion?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, his eyes dark and fixed on Tony’s body.

Tony took a breath and forced himself to move a few feet further into the closet. He found what he was looking for, nestled in a little velvet display box, and held it up. “Cock ring,” he noted by way of explanation.

Steve looked at the metal ring. “Like… jewelry?”

“Can be. But the point is, it fits tightly around the base of the cock—delays orgasm, generally until it’s removed.”

Steve took it out of Tony’s hand. “You want to wear it so that you don’t come.”

“You’re the miracle man—I could use a little help keeping up with your super powered libido.”

“I didn’t notice you having any problems in that area.”

“But we haven’t plumbed the depths of your full capacity yet. Don’t tell me you don’t want to plumb the depths.”

“I want to plumb something.” Steve told him with a leer, teasingly smacking Tony’s ass with the switch.

Tony let out a tight, high sound of encouragement.

Steve sucked in a breath and bit his lip. He glanced down at the cock ring again. “How does it fit?”

“Voice control. You can tell it to open and close again when it’s in place.”

“My voice—“

“Just yours. Yes.”

Steve put one hand on Tony’s chest and pushed him backwards until his back hit the wall. “This isn’t about keeping up with me, is it?”

“Not entirely,” Tony admitted.

Steve kept his hand pressed firmly against Tony’s chest, effectively pinning him in place. He stared down at Tony, taking full advantage of the small difference in their heights.

Tony met Steve’s eyes, and what he saw there made him give a low moan. Steve had plans. He had _designs_.

“Open,” Steve said, and Tony heard a slight whir as the cock ring expanded. Steve slid it down over Tony’s cock until it nestled right at the base. “Close,” Steve ordered it.

Tony felt the ring contract around him, snug and firm and grounding. Steve’s hand slid back over Tony’s cock and Tony bucked and moaned.

Steve brought his hand up to thread his fingers through Tony’s hair, and Tony’s mouth watered with anticipation. But instead of shoving him to his knees, Steve forced him forward and then out of the closet towards his bed.

“Was going to wait to fuck you, but— goddamn, look at you. I don’t feel like waiting.”

“Good impulse. Really good impulse.”

Steve gave a final shove and Tony sprawled onto the bed.

“Lube?” Steve demanded, his voice rough and impatient.

“Side table,” Tony pointed, his hand scrambling in the direction of the drawer, but Steve beat him to it, jerking it open and fishing out a bottle. He wasted no time, and before Tony could move he felt one of Steve’s hands pressing his chest down against the bed while the other delved between the cheeks of his ass.

One finger entered him, slick with lube but still rough. Tony moaned and arched up. “More. God, Steve, hurry up and take me.”

Steve thrust in a second finger, and Tony sucked in a pained breath at the burn of it, the too-much stretch that wasn’t even close to enough. “Fuck,” he spit out and the two fingers spread him, poked and prodded him, and finally found a spot inside him that sent sparks flying across his nerves. “Oh, fuck, yeah, Steve, more.”

Abruptly the fingers were gone and he felt Steve’s hands settle on his hips and grip them hard. He felt the head of Steve’s cock against his entrance and let out a small noise of what might have been fear. He’d never been fucked by someone as big as Steve on this little prep. He should say something, probably, but he wanted it—the pain, the burn, the impossible stretch of Captain America filling him up.

Steve paused. “This OK?”

“Yeah. Yes. Please. Just— slow?”

“I can do slow.”

And he could. Tony felt the head of Steve’s cock press against him, but so slowly that he could feel his own muscles every so gradually relax enough to give way.

“Oh, God, Tony. You’re— I can’t believe how tight you are.”

Steve pushed a little harder, and Tony could feel the head of his cock all the way in, pulling him apart. Christ, he was big. And he felt bigger, like this. It hurt, made him feel used in all the best ways. He moaned and pushed back. “Fast now. Please.”

Steve obliged, thrusting himself all the way, deep into the center of him, like Steve was breaching all his walls, like his defenses were nothing but paper. Tony felt himself gasp, all his nerves protesting against the invasion, but somehow the pain echoed around in his body until it turned to bright pleasure and made him beg for more.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned. “I can’t believe you.”

“Need you. Hard.”

And maybe that was all the permission that Steve needed, because suddenly Tony could feel him thrusting in brutally, making him squirm and gasp and teeter on the line between pleasure and pain with every stroke, until Tony could feel himself rutting against the sheets of the bed, so close to coming under Steve’s assault that it felt as if each thrust might set him off.

And then Steve shifted so that his strokes aimed down, each one raking the head of Steve’s cock over Tony’s prostate and forcing wave after wave of endorphins through his system. His balls were pulled tight against his body and he vibrated with a need that he knew was held back only by that slender bit of metal.

Steve huffed and groaned over him, and Tony tried to focus on that instead of the tension in his own body. This was technically only their third time, but Tony was pretty sure he could already tell when Steve was trying to please him, and when he gave in to his own desires and took precisely what he wanted. This was the former.

“Do it, Steve. Let go. Take—” Tony interrupted himself with a gasp, "—what you need.”

Tony felt sharp pain in his shoulder as Steve bit down there, nearly hard enough to draw blood. Tony arched back against him until one of Steve’s hands shoved his head to the mattress. Tony took the hint, relaxing his body as much as he was able and letting Steve lift his hips to thrust faster, and, unbelievably, harder too.

“So good, Tony,” Steve murmured, “fuck it’s so good.” Just a few thrusts more and Steve was throbbing, spilling into him, and Tony could do nothing but take it and feel the intense frustration of his every over-sensitive nerve.

Steve collapsed on top of him, so solid and heavy that Tony could barely wriggle against the sheets. Steve’s forehead pressed against Tony’s back as he caught his breath. “Still can’t believe that you let me fuck you like that.”

“Let you? I would _pay_ you. Like, right now. Name your price, just tell me you’re not done.”

Steve laughed as he pulled out and rolled off. "Not a prostitute." He stood and gave Tony’s ass a playful swat. “And I am never going to be done fucking you.”

Steve's face froze for a moment, whether because he hadn't meant what he said, or because he'd meant it too much, Tony couldn't tell. Tony rolled over and gave his best leer, good for all occasions, and Steve seemed to relax.

Tony watched him walk to the bathroom, one hand holding up his pants. The water ran for a minute, and then Steve emerged, his clothes all in place and his hair back to its careful part. He tossed over a damp washcloth.

Tony caught it neatly and cleaned himself off as Steve returned to the closet. The cool of the rough terrycloth against the skin of his cock felt good, let him back a little further away from the edge.

Steve’s voice very nearly brought him right back. Just a quiet “on,” followed by a soft buzz, and a softer “off,” but it was enough to send a rush of need pumping through his veins.

When Steve came back into view, he held a crooked plug in his hand. “All of your vibrators are red and gold?” Steve asked, one eyebrow raised. “Really?”

“They’re good colors.”

“So the phrase ‘textbook narcissism’ wouldn’t be appropriate?”

“Are you going to keep quoting my file or are you going to come over here and do whatever you’ve got in mind for that?”

Steve seemed to consider for a moment, and then crossed the room and took Tony by both arms and stretched them up over his head. Tony felt the cool metal of his handcuffs close around one wrist, and then heard the sound of the chain being threaded through the headboard, and the click of a cuff closing around his other wrist.

Handcuffs never felt quite as good as being thrown down and held there, but the dark lust in Steve's eyes when he stood back to admire his handiwork more than made up for that.

Steve stripped off his shirt, his boots, his socks. He took off his belt and casually tossed it on the bed, and Tony was pretty sure he meant for the sight of the thing to make Tony shiver a little. Steve stood and dropped pants and boxers, and then Tony could only stare.

The strength of Steve's body was always evident in every move he made, whatever he wore. But bare like this, he telegraphed his strength even in stillness. In motion, he looked like power incarnate. Tony tried to make some quip, but found his throat dry and his mind unable to come up with anything cleverer than "please."

"Please what?"

"Anything."

Steve reached between Tony's legs and gave his balls a little squeeze—like the switch, the gesture was more threat than actual pain, but even so it played havoc with Tony's nerves, made him gasp and writhe and beg. "Anything. Oh god, anything."

Steve released him and picked up the lube. He slicked a couple of fingers of one hand, and then casually reached behind himself. His other hand found his cock—almost fully hard again already—and gave it a few loose strokes while his head fell back and his eyes closed in pleasure.

Tony sputtered in sheer confusion for a moment before subsiding into an awed silence, watching as Captain America stroked himself and opened himself up. He strained against the handcuffs, desperate to do _something_. “Fuck, Rogers. You’re going to use the plug yourself?”

“I thought about it,” Steve admitted. “But I decided I’d rather use something else.” His hand stayed behind him, tragically shielded from Tony’s view but clearly still moving, and from time to time Steve stiffened, or gave a little gasp. Tony was no stranger to pornography, but he was sure that no porn on Earth could hold a candle to watching what Steve was doing to himself.

Steve approached the bed again, and paused by Tony’s side to open the drawer of the bedside table. He pulled out a condom and tore it open with his teeth. Part of Tony’s brain remained coherent enough to tsk a little at the poor form, but was immediately distracted by the question of why Steve was bothering with the thing at all until he felt Steve’s hand guiding the bit of latex over Tony’s cock and all the pieces fell into place. “You’re kidding. Oh, fuck, Steve, goddamn.”

And then Steve was straddling him, and he could feel the slightly yielding pressure of Steve’s entrance pressed against the tip of his cock, and all of his mental facilities abandoned him. He whined and thrust upwards, only to be stopped cold by Steve’s ankles braced firmly over Tony’s thighs, pinning him hard against the mattress.

Tony strained against Steve anyway, almost totally unable to control himself as Steve lowered himself impossibly slowly onto Tony’s cock. Tony moaned, and babbled something that was almost certainly begging—even he couldn’t say for sure. The tight friction surrounding him held every iota of his attention, wiped out every thought in his head except his need for more.

Then Steve reached the bottom of the stroke, gave a throaty sigh, and started to move up and down in a smooth, slow rhythm. 

Tony could feel his need building, compounding, expanding to fill everything inside him. "God, Steve, please, need to—"

Steve reached out over Tony's exposed chest, grasped one nipple between his fingers, and twisted hard. 

Tony gasped at the pain of it. His back arched and his whole body throbbed and shuddered, so like an orgasm that he thought for a moment it was, but the sensation just stayed there, coiled tight, and offered no release. Tony gasped or whined, or—fuck it—maybe even sobbed, just the once. He tried to remember how to breathe, with limited success.

Through it all he was faintly aware that Steve hadn't stopped moving, that he was still stroking his cock and fucking himself on Tony's dick.

Tony managed to recover enough to open his eyes.

Steve had his head thrown back, eyes closed as his hand worked over his cock. His lips moved, shaping whispered obscenities as he stroked himself faster and faster.

"Christ, Steve. The way you... look right now..."

Steve didn't slow his hand or open his eyes, or give any indication at all that he heard. He looked for all the world like a man jerking himself off in the privacy of his own room. As if Tony weren’t there at all. As if his presence meant nothing to Steve except a convenient way to get off. Tony groaned and shuddered at the thought. Steve didn't respond to that either, but Tony thought he saw a little twitch to his lips.

Steve's hand stilled and left his cock, groping around the bed. He found what he was looking for and stilled long enough to coat the vibrator in lube. Tony whined low in his throat as Steve bent slightly backwards and the plug disappeared from his sight.

It slipped in easily, with a gentle pressure that barely registered amid the overwhelming pleasure of Steve on his cock. But then Steve whispered "on" and the low vibration filled him, multiplying every sensation until his hips bucked upward again of their own accord.

Steve shifted to allow it, and Tony groaned and kept thrusting, gasping at the intense friction.

"Harder," Steve muttered, and for a second Tony thought the instruction was for him. But then he felt the vibrator kick up several settings, sending impossible heat flooding through his body. Whether the command had been for him or not, he obeyed it—couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried. He bucked up wildly into Steve, his toes scrambling for purchase against the bedsheets.

Steve groaned and swore, and sank down on Tony’s cock and stayed there as Tony’s hips kept struggling to thrust up into him. Tony felt the hot spurt of Steve’s come on his chest and let out a little whimper of his own.

Steve’s eyes finally opened, his pupils wide and dark. He wiped a little of his come off of Tony’s chest with two fingers and leaned forward to press them roughly between his lips.

Tony moaned at the intrusion and tried to suck at Steve’s fingers as he thrust them in and out of Tony’s mouth. Between the throbbing drag of Steve’s muscles around his cock, and the steady buzz of the vibrator, Tony couldn’t focus on anything but his own need. So close. So close and never there. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

“Fuck,” Steve breathed. “Goddamn, Tony.” He lifted himself off, and Tony whimpered at the loss of the tight heat around his cock.

Steve shifted to lie next to Tony and reached down between his legs to toy with the plug.

“Jesus, Steve, please. You’ve got to let me—“ A sudden wave of sensation cut him off as Steve did something to the plug that made it press hard against Tony’s prostate, and he gasped. “Can’t. Can’t. Can’t take… any more.”

Steve ripped the plug out of Tony and tossed it aside, but leaned in close to whisper into Tony’s ear. “You’ll take what I make you take.”

Tony groaned. “Fuck, Steve. Please.” Tony took a breath, a little more able to control himself now that the plug was out, but still feeling more desperate than he had since he was a teenager. “Please take the cock ring off— I can’t take any more.”

“What happened to plumbing the depths?” Steve asked, his voice a dark growl.

“That was past-me. Don’t listen to that guy, he’s an asshole. Gets me into all kinds of trouble.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Steve chuckled, idly sliding his hand over Tony’s thighs, his balls, his stomach, and absently rolling the condom off his cock and tossing it into the trash bin. “But he was right this time.” Steve pressed himself against Tony’s thigh, and Tony could feel that he was already half-hard again.

Tony let out a little sound at that. “I do not believe you. Goddamn.”

“In case you were wondering, I’m taking you twice more before I let you come.”

At that Tony could swear that all his insides turned to liquid heat, and his desperation returned in full force. He couldn’t— there was absolutely no way he could wait that long. “No, please. Please let me— Put the ring right back on after and fuck me ‘til you’re coming dry, but don’t make me wait.”

Steve groaned and grabbed Tony’s shoulder, rolling him onto his side and pressing close behind him. Steve’s hand stroked along Tony’s side, over his chest, and down to Tony’s cock, tracing the ring still snugly circling him. “Tempting,” Steve growled, “but I’d rather have you like this.” He thrust a little in emphasis, his now mostly hard cock rubbing between the cheeks of Tony’s ass.

Tony whimpered. “Do it then, please. Hurry.” But Steve didn’t answer—just continued his gentle thrusts against Tony’s ass, his breathing harsh but satisfied.

The bastard was taking his fucking time. _I’m taking you twice more_. And he was going to do it slowly. Fuck.

And with his hands bound above him, the ring snug around him, and Steve’s full strength ready at any time to manhandle him into whatever position Steve wanted, there wasn’t a lot that Tony could do about it.

Still, never let it be said that Tony couldn’t work with what he had.

He took a deep breath. “You like the idea of covering me in your come, don’t you?”

Steve groaned at that.

“You always bring it up— it’s a thing for you, right?”

Steve didn’t answer, but Tony could feel his dick pressing hard against him.

“One of these days— when I’m in my lab, or at some bar, or,” he gives a soft chuckle, “in a briefing. I want you to grab me and pull me into some closet and fuck me. Come deep inside me and plug me up.”

“Hell, Tony,” Steve swore. He grabbed Tony’s hip and thrust.

Tony moaned and arched. He was still well lubed, but Steve wasn’t, and the friction was more than he expected. Hurt like hell in his already abused entrance, and the way Steve grunted as the thrust told Tony that Steve not only knew that it hurt, but liked it. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” Tony heard the desperation in his own voice and didn’t care. It was totally impossible to be this turned on and not turning himself inside out in a spectacular orgasm. It was too much. He whimpered.

“Do you have any idea how hot you are when you’re desperate?” Steve hissed in his ear. “I could fuck you like this all night.”

Tony whimpered again and tried to collect himself. “You want to make me walk around all day full of your come? So you’ll know, every time you look at me?”

Steve moaned and started pumping into Tony with even strokes.

“You could grab me again, fuck me again, fill me with your come over and over all day. Make me swallow it. Make me wear it.”

Steve thrust faster. “You want that?”

“Yes,” Tony gasped out. “Hell yes.”

“What else?” Steve growled. “Keep talking.”

That he could do. “The switch. Want you to use it. Mark me. My whole back. Make me come just from that.”

Steve gave an especially sharp thrust and Tony whined. “You couldn’t.”

“I really could.”

Steve groaned and thrust harder still.

Tony tried to pick up the thread of what he’d been saying. “You’d… mark me up, make me beg, make me come. And then—“ Steve’s thrusts were fast enough know that it was hard to get out whole sentences, “flip me over and… fuck me. On my back. So I’d… feel it… the whole time.”

“Fuck. Oh, fuck, Tony.” Steve’s voice wavered, and Tony was pretty sure he was getting close. But he gasped out “what else?”

Tony whined. He couldn’t think, all of his attention on Steve’s rough thrusts.

“Keep talking,” Steve ordered, and Tony moaned desperately.

“Want you to—“ he sobbed out another moan, and then blurted out that first thing that came into his head. “Share me.”

“What?” Steve’s voice was low and dangerous in his ear.

Tony had no idea if Steve’s tone was good or bad, if he liked the idea or hated it. But he was way too far gone to censor himself. If he was going to say anything, it was going to be the truth. “Want you to… tell other men that— that they can have me. Want you to… watch them do it.”

Steve thrust twice more, and if it had been hard before—and it had—this time it was harder still. 

Hot pain shot through Tony and wrenched a horse cry from his throat. His balls pulled tight up against him and his cock twitched. He was so agonizingly close, and the hot wet throb of Steve coming inside him only made it worse. “Please,” he sobbed out. “Please, pleaseplease.”

Steve didn’t answer for a long moment, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he spent himself inside of Tony’s body. “Fuck,” he finally managed. “Fuck, Tony, you can’t say things like that. I’ll think you mean them.”

Tony whimpered. “Mean it. Do you—“

Steve reached around and gave Tony’s cock a squeeze. “Holy hell, Tony. You want me to pass you around like some… toy?” he whispered.

Tony made another small sound and bucked into Steve’s fist, knowing full well that it would bring only more frustration, but unable to keep himself from doing it anyway. “Do you want—“ he tried again.

“To tell some guy he can fuck you?” At first the question sounded hostile in Tony’s ears, but after a moment he registered the thick desire in Steve’s voice. “To watch him come down your throat? Watch him enjoy your ass as much as I do?”

“Please, Steve,” Tony begged again. “Let me— please. Can’t hear you talk like that and not—“

“God, you really want it. Want me to hold you down while someone else fucks you.”

Tony moaned his wholehearted agreement. Fuck. 

“Can’t believe you, begging for something like that. You sound like a two dollar whore.”

Tony whimpered, trying again to thrust into Steve’s fist, frustrated again by the futility of it.

“You like it when I call you names,” Steve hissed. It wasn’t a question. “You’re such a filthy slut for me. For anybody that would have you, I bet. You want me to treat you like a whore? Want me to charge for you? A couple of bucks to fuck you? A quarter to come down your throat?”

And then Steve rolled his hips, and Tony realized that he was hard again already. “Please. Please please anything you want. Anything.”

Steve gave a wordless growl in his ear and moved his fist, bringing it back covered in lube to slide wet and slick over Tony’s cock. Steve started to thrust in a slow rhythm, angling to press hard against Tony’s prostate with each stroke. Between the slick tight heat of Steve’s fist, the brutal power of his thrusts, and the raw need in his grunts and moans, Tony felt himself unravel in earnest.

“Can’t. Please, can’t… take it. Really. Really, Steve. Can’t. Please.”

Steve didn’t relent. “You’ll use your safeword,” he growled, “or you’ll take” he punctured that with an especially sharp stroke, “what I give you.” Steve pushed him onto his stomach. 

Steve’s fist remained curled around his cock, and the rest of him pressed Tony against the bed, his size and his strength and the handcuffs together keeping Tony from moving any part of his body save his fingers and toes. “Understand me? You take what I say you take.”

Tony sobbed, honestly not sure he could, but totally unwilling to end this. 

Steve started to thrust again, and Tony was suddenly deeply, intensely aware of Steve’s control. It raced through his veins, burning him up, burning away his desperation, his need, everything but the hot, thick pleasure of now. He stopped thinking of what would happen next, what he would do or wouldn’t, could do or couldn’t. None of that mattered because it was all out of his hands. The only thing he could care about was the gorgeous friction, Steve’s moans and the building pleasure inhabiting every cell of his body.

He floated there, in that perfect state of bliss. It might have been a minute or an hour before Steve groaned a final time and Tony felt him spilling once more. And then Steve whispered something and Tony’s whole world shattered. Fragments of his self seemed to explode out of his body, hanging in the air in some kind of elaborate, crystalline pattern before coalescing again into one coherent consciousness, sweaty and sticky and boneless and profoundly sated.

Tony didn’t move—possibly couldn’t move, but he hadn’t the slightest inclination to put it to the test—for several minutes. Finally Steve shifted to move his weight off Tony, and Tony managed to whisper “don’t. Not yet.”

Steve hummed his satisfaction. “I cannot believe you,”

“Me?” Tony murmured. “ _You._ Fuck, Rogers.” He could barely keep his eyes open, but that had never stopped his mouth from running before. “You are a genius. A master tactician of sex. Can’t believe what you do to me.”

Steve placed a kiss against Tony’s back. “Feeling’s mutual.”

“Did you mean it?” Tony asked vaguely. “Before?”

“About…” Steve paused. “About sharing you?” he asked, his voice thick with lust, but almost reverent. “If— yes. If you want.”

Tony groaned. “Fuck. I do. But I meant—“ he stopped himself. It was ridiculous, and too soon, and if he weren’t half asleep and coasting on every pleasurable chemical his body could produce, he would never have continued. “When you said you’d never be done fucking me?”

Tony felt Steve’s forehead against his back, and then his lips kissing down his spine. He barely heard Steve’s whispered “I meant it,” before slipping into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> ...and yes, “I’ll never be done fucking you” is probably as schmoopy as this series is going to get. I'm just that romantic.
> 
> Concrit always welcome (but not required).


End file.
